The Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil
by JadenFayle
Summary: While saving the world from a cult wasn't on the agenda, Amahl will have to make sure to pencil it in somewhere. That is, if he can avoid going to jail first!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This is a write up of a campaign I played in. I only own Amahl. The setting is someone else's property; but what was done to it is the DM's warped imaginations. Have fun.

He was shoulder deep in dirt with a shovel in hand, digging a grave. Somehow, Amahl thought things were going perfectly well. The mound of dirt kept creeping up higher with each payload of earth he tossed aside; each scrape of metal was towards the juicy bits buried beneath. Amahl, formerly unemployed, had now gotten into the incredibly enviable market of grave robbing. After all, stealing from the living was one thing. Stealing from a grave in the middle of a packed city in the middle of the night, was an entirely different thing. After all, this was more prestigious.

Picking pockets never caused the same stir.

Sharp impact against pine broke the train of thought. Immediately Amahl looked up and around; and sure enough his partner hissed back at him. "Not so loud you idiot." Barked John. It was a partnership. Not that Amahl had to listen to John; or learned everything from John. Or was scared of John. Those little things would make John more his boss than his partner. This way things were equal. The boot to the head got Amahl yammering and apologizing, "I said quiet! Now crack it open."

Amahl bucked under the foot with a nervous glance around. At his current height, he could barely see the grass, but it made him feel better. Crouched down in a grave, Amahl took a crowbar, trying to wedge and crack open the coffin. Right, the job. Partners. Get the hand, and get out of there. Oh, and fleece the body of shine first. Bit by bit the wood got open; and Amahl let out a fevered pitch, "I got it! Its open." The boot ground into him again and Amahl piped down with another chitter.

The night made everything so hard to see but not so bad to hear. Things traveled so much more. "Hey! He's back! Quick get the guard!"

Amahl's eyes went wide and he looked back at John. John looked back at Amahl. That brief instant of being caught made them both freeze for a second as the fight or flight instinct took the two of them. Amahl tried to scramble up out of the hole he had dug himself into, and John kicked a face full of dirt in his protege's face. John was his partner; just not the kind of one you rely on. Or trust. Or complain to. Blind with dirt all inside the back of his eyelids, Amahl clambered blind to the sound of John running into the night.

"There he goes! Go go!"

Amahl looked about like a wild hamster. The instinct to HIDE overtook him. Dirt, dirt, dirt, wood. Amahl went to the only place available to him: the coffin. With a grimace on his face he climbed in as quietly as he could, listening to the boots above muffle his sound. The human was snug with a corpse in the dark as the sounds of the chase continued. Questioning shouts followed. Just a few feet above him, Amahl was sure. The human just closed his eyes and counted to ten; trying so hard to act like it was all going to be okay.

"So... nice place you have here." He muttered to the body, "Don't tell anyone. Its my first time. Not grave robbing. You know, hiding in..." A shudder rolled through Amahl. So nervous, he couldn't stop nattering now. Gritting his teeth, he heard the sounds roll about. It would probably be another hour or so before he could safely move. The lid was cracked just enough for him to be able to breathe; but not enough for him to be comfortable. "You know. You might get more company if you didn't hog the bed." Amahl was a few steps from jail; and he couldn't shut up!

His teeth clenched in the black, waiting patiently for them to crack open that lid; but it never happened. Seconds stretched to minutes. Stretched to spans. Eventually Amahl pressed against the lid and began to pull out of the night hung over the sky still, and not a guard or torchlight in sight. "Holy shit..." Amahl whispered. He looked down to the body of a human woman. The grief bubbled inside that greedy core. That nice shine. That nice fat ring on her finger could get a nice helping.

No words. No quips. Amahl climbed out the grave. In the shadows covered in dirt, he snuck out of the graveyard empty-handed. Yeah. He needed to find a new line of work. John was gonna kill him.

Temple of Elemental Evil: Hey big man, can I hold a dollar?

Amahl was covered in dirt; and smelled of the grave. It wouldn't take a smarty to put some stuff together. He was about as unremarkable as they came along over all, but that would certainly get him pinched. Times were bad in Cormyr; but that would get anyone pinched. Amahl was born and raised in Suzail; that big fat jewel in the kingdom - so he knew what rocked the boat. Oh yeah. Touching the dead was right up there like telling a sailor his mom kissed a green-skinned gobby.

He forgot what time the city went to mess. Suddenly there just wasn't money to go around; and everybody who was anybody was nobody now. 'Lest they were knights. Riots brought in the Purple Dragons. Since then people were acting nice; scared to mess of guys tougher than nails. People had to get rationed work to fix the place up at the temple of Waukeen, and things still haven't gotten that good. Even lifting a bit of clench for his stomach made things off balance; everybody was hungry. Every person was needing.

Except that gnome.

Amahl stuck to the alleys as he moved about. That sweet city smell mixed with the good stuff to put off his peculiar fixture of attributes. His thoughts turned again to that weird gnome; trying to wrinkle out things. The meet up was near that shop. Some gnome wanted hands. He didn't care how, but that squat big nosed sucker wanted them. John said he could get lots of hands. All the hands the little guy could need. 'Course that meant all the bits of shine went to John and Amahl.

If John was anywhere, he'd probably be there. The creepy rat looking old man found Amahl most of the time. The gnome ran a shop in town. He was some sort of witch or something; and made weird salves and the like that smelled horrible. What a little gnome needed with hands bigger than his face - Amahl didn't want to know. For now his money was good. Though John never went into specifics, Amahl always figured the little the guy was a witch or something. Creepy.

Amahl got to the place ahead of time - if there was a time. No sign of John. The building had been boarded up a bit more than usual. A shiver rolled through the human again, "Creeeeepy." He whispered with a tired weight. He shifted into the shadows a bit more, settling into the alleyway and resting atop a barrel. It'd been a bit since he had gotten some sleep. The sun would be coming up soon; and it was well enough he get some shut eye. Last thing he wanted was to be meandering home at the moment empty handed. Just a bit of shut eye. Then he'd meet up with John.

He couldn't have been out too long though.

The sounds of life stirred Amahl again. The noise of someone clanking about, trying to get into the place. This was a larger guy. A pretty tough looking person too. He looked like a slumming noble or some fancy pants knight without the fancy. He wore some leather, with the metal studs that caught early this morning. This guy, a human, had this massive length of chain he had along with him. It looked like a nasty piece of work. So Amahl did the most logical thing to him to this potential burglar. He spoke to him.

"N'ain't no bidness of mine friend; but I'm kenning you're lookin to get in."

The figure gave a pause. The way his muscles tensed were a slow decisive measure. The way someone that decided not to jump and alarm would. Course Amahl would've been all out of sorts if someone did this to him. John got a kick out of it. "I might be." He was one of those pretty types; the ones that could afford a bath. His hair was pressed back with a grizzled chin. The way this guy was looking at the shadows told his eyes were still adjusting to the dark - trying to pick out where Amahl was.

"So who are ya then? I didn't figure the guy had many ge'nleman callers." Amahl slipped up to his feet to make it easier on the stranger. He put his hands on the waist of his leggings and leaned against the wall. The figure in response, looked back over his shoulder and gave a slow nod, looking back to Amahl. He had a coin purse alright. One with more than rocks in it. The stranger picked up a coin, a nice silver one. The light was more than enough to give it away, but he twisted it just so - and getting the light to glance across the face.

"I'm paying."

It gave Amahl another pause with that much money. The clench in his stomach got a bit more and he gave a smile. He tried to pass it off, rolling his shoulders with a wave, "Yeah. Well le's get you in then friend." He said. Amahl's eyes lingered on the coin for a bit, and the stranger stood back. His form slipped along the dark wall and hid from the waking city a bit more adequately. The grave-robber stepped forth, trying not to disappoint. He knit his brow as he looked about, gathering together some twine before settling at the back door.

The fancy-pants watched in silence. What the witch-gnome had, and what fancy-pants wanted, sure that was a good story. Now though, Amahl was breaking into a store with some garbage bits people tossed. Stories and reasons weren't his business never were. Just like that, the door was open. Easier this way, than breaking down the door or the windows. Just a wiggle and a twist - the whole thing falls open like a key to a lock. Reverse that. Yeah.

The door opened rather quietly, and Amahl gave it a gentle push. With a smile back over his shoulder he gestured onward into the house. "There it be. I thank ya kindly for that shine now." He whispered. The man shifted and walked on over. Closer. Closer. Past, and into the house. Amahl's brow knit and he looked to the guy, following along behind, "Oi. What's the problem man, I thought we had a deal?"

"I will still need you to close up after me."

"Tch."

Amahl followed afterwards, quietly closing the door behind him. He'd never been inside the place before. It smelled funny. "Creeeepy..." He whispered under his breath. It was a dark place. Everything was so small on this side of the house. It was a house for dolls. The stranger seemed to be looking for something in particular, searching for something. Amahl on the other hand, was just trying to make sure he didn't break anything. Everything was so small, he felt like a giant.

It gave him a sense of vertigo just trying to follow along. Then he heard the tapping. He began to speak and the stranger waved him off. Yeah. Something was here. It was very faint, but they were getting closer now. The sound of something bubbling was there too. Just in the corner of the sound. Amahl was so caught up in the sound that he tripped over a small chair in the dark and had to stifle a curse. The stranger just glare at him and they both held their breath for a time - but nothing happened. Nothing came for them.

Amahl picked himself up, trying to brush himself off and managed to put more dirt on the ground that was originally there in the first place. He felt the heat dig into his cheeks as he moved to follow, and recognized a light in the twist of the house. Then he saw the hands. They were moving.

The hands were moving around, skittering about on their fingertips. Animate, the clattering claws tipped back and forth, tending to boiling water, a small fire, writing. They were rushing back and forth without direction, pouring beakers and making foul smelling formulae. Amahl's mind froze and he stood stock still for a few moments just staring. All those hands he had collected. What was this witch doing?! The stranger had a stomach made of sterner stuff and veins more hardened. He wasn't as shaken at the sight of these dancing digits doing dexterous deeds.

Then again, the stranger didn't hand pick the lot of them.

Amahl rubbed the sleep from his eyes and watched a bit more before backing up towards the door. The stranger scowled at him and shrugged it off, nodding towards the upstairs. The fear of these abominations was pressed back in a lump Amahl swallowed. The need for that coin was a bit more pressing. As long as he thought about them as rats, it wasn't so bad. Yeah. Dancing. Moving. Witch-rats. That was more doable. One step at a time.

"So a palm and four fingers walk into a bar..." Amahl begins.

"Shut it." The stranger finishes.

Amahl managed a grumble in response and continued to climb. He finished the joke with mock motions. Oh he did not like this place one bit. His fingertips rested on the walls as he climbed up, keeping his balance in position as he moved as quietly as he could. The stranger kept on up, moving with less skill than Amahl but with definite grace. At the top, Amahl was dreading what he would see. Witch-rat-hands making potions downstairs, he knew; but there were a lot of hands unaccounted for.

His entire home could fit in this place so many times over. Who needed so much space?! The thoughts coiled in Amahl's mind. Maybe the gnome collected feet as well? Maybe he collected shoes for those feet. The worst of those fears came to a head when he saw what the stranger was looking for. A room of clothes - of some fancy boots. A cry of alarm left him, seeing hands measure boots and tack leather in place. Amahl spun around and tried to dart away. All the hands tried to give pursuit now, his stumble before unnoticed but now - they sprang in defense of their demesne.

The stranger barged into the room as the hands left, and took his boots. That fleeting image was ingrained in Amahl's brain as he took off. He ran too fast, missing the stairs in his blind panic, and saw hands set up playing cards. Convinced now he was going mad, Amahl made a spin, trying to barrel down the stairs. The hands were chasing after him, flying at him with lunges of nails or in a fist. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, finding the other hands coming in response at the bottom of the stair.

Revenge! They were coming for revenge! And they'd take his hand! Amahl cried out in terror and leapt over the arm of the stair. Without much cause for pause, Amahl darted out the door, and into the alleyway. He had to slow to a stop, looking in abject terror at the building. The hands clambered up one on another, reaching up for the door handle and in unison, pulling it closed. A hand clapped down on his shoulder, and gave Amahl the scare of his life - a second time.

It was the stranger.

"Calm down. You're safe."

Amahl started laughing faintly, looking between the house and the odd individual. It took him a moment to recognize the shattered glass. Those fine flecks of it on the ground from the second story painted that quick escape just fine as well. He started laughing again and it took him a bit to calm. "Holy hells. I never thought... I... what the..." The man offered no answers to Amahl immediately. His hand withdrew, and the stranger searched his coin, pulling out one with more luster and a few more silver coins as well.

"Get a bath, and meet me at tavern near the docks. Your skill set could come in handy."

The bit of nausea that erupted had to have been done on purpose. The stranger grinned, slapping the coin in Amahl's unsteady hand. "Calm down. We're heroes after all." The incredulous look had to be worth it. "I am Crotus. See me when you have all your faculties." The stranger, Crotus, set off with a purpose. Amahl on the other hand, was just trying to figure out what had happened. Failing that, Amahl decided it was past time he stop robbing graves, and find something else to do with his life.

Then again, if all the jobs paid this well - working with Crotus couldn't be so bad.


	2. Chapter 2 : In it to Win it

Disclaimer: I do not own Dungeons and Dragons, The Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil, or the Forgotten Realms. Amahl was a character I created in the campaign, and this is just a write up of those adventures. Please enjoy.

Amahl came home with his bundled parcel. He had to try not to smile to broadly as he moved on his way. His mom was going to love this. His steps were more than a little dancing with the smell of fresh bread. There wasn't much left over but the lot of it should be able to feed them pretty good for the next few days. If things worked out with Crotus then he'd be able to keep this up. Maybe next time get some more stuff. Amahl's mind was stuck on circles about what to get; mainly dancing around different foods, maybe some wine.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh in the not-so-happy way broke the thoughts of steak and gravy. Being not of the heaviest frame or soundest in a fair fight, Amahl did the most logical thing to him. He ran into the fray. Running and screaming his head off, Amahl swung the bag of food as hard as he could in wide circles - acting like a complete lunatic. The bodies in motion stopped and tried to figure out what was going on; and Amahl just kept running.

"aaaaAAAAAAAAAaaaaa-"

He kept running and running all the way to his house, but he started laughing before too long. People started wondering what was going on and he just couldn't stop laughing till he was all but collapsing at his house. The shack was suitable for a time, and his mother was busy smiling at his antics. She was a hard trodden woman with graying hair - the smile became a bit thinner at the sight of the bread. "So wha's that all about."

"Oh! Uuh.. you know. Sometimes jus' gotta... run and scream an' stuff."

"Uhuh. An' that?"

"Oh! Uuuh did some work today. Yeah uh... stuff."

"Oo well go on an' get yer brother then."

His mother hefted the bag of bread and smiled a bit. She gestured Amahl off, trying not to get too much into specifics. The concern in her eyes at how much bread was here brushed over the moment but she didn't ask. Amahl stifled a comment and grinned, giving a lazy wave, "I gotcha. Where'd he run off to?" He asked on halfway out the door.

"Oh I was kennin' he ran off to get some work too." Her reply followed.

Amahl paused on his stride. His mother kept working, looking like she was going to try and set some water out. He managed a smile to no audience watching and stepped on out the door. His brother wasn't that fast. Things got bad, Thatcher'd get pinched - or worse if he messed with the wrong folks. Kind of like how Amahl didn't want to get caught with something working with John. Not that John was his boss or anything, but John didn't take bad news well.

The step of Amahl's movements picked up a mite bit faster in the face of it all. He didn't have to go too much farther, as Thatcher was coming on home of his own walk. His little brother was in one piece at least. Thatcher was like a scrawnier version of Amahl. The bruises that lit the body up appeared that much more in pops of color as a result. Amahl rolled his eyes with a slight warmth to his cheeks at the thoughts then eventually felt a bit more ire - and humor - from the situation. "The hell you doin' Thactch."

"The hell you doin'! Running like that."

"Oh I'm sorry, did I get ya beat up by yer new friends?"

"We had him! Then e'ryone came out wonderin' what the hell happened."

His brother was shouting at him - and not in that, 'I'm angry you kept running instead of saving me' type of way. It was more the type of anger he was used to hearing from John. Amahl grit his teeth for a bit then lunged at his brother. The lazy smile lingered for a bit before that switch on his brain put him to motion. Amahl started driving his knee into Thatch and tossed his brother on the ground. Thatch was caught so surprised he had the wind knocked out of him. Amahl went up to him and started kicking. "Don't. Ever. Do. That. Again!"

Thatcher was curled up, shouting and cursing to shield himself. He wasn't a brawler or a cheater. He was a punk, not a tough. Amahl's fire went to broil as he tried to drag his brother up, to shove him against the wall, "The hell mom'd do if you got pinched? You think about that? You keep ya blasted head down, or I'll kick the snot out of you again." Amahl's words dragged out of him with a heat. He grabbed his brother, clenching him for a bit before finally trying to withdraw from the situation.

He just beat the mess out of his brother. Time to go. Yeah. Definetly time to go. "Dinner's ready." The walk back was decidedly less buoyant than when he first arrived. He could only feel the thoughts that wrinkled and soured. The thoughts that told him that his brother was going to get killed trying to follow Amahl's footsteps. Well, he might be stealing; but he never hurt folk. Maybe he just had to make more gold right? Hn. Make things better, then Thatcher wouldn't have to play tough. Yeah. That sounded like a plan.

Better than nothing.

Temple of Elemental Evil: Chapter 2 In it to Win it

"They shot at me!"

"You want your gold or not?"

"Yeah... yeah hey! Hey come on..."

"Then quit complaining. No one died."

Amahl hefted the parcel with a bit of a smile. The work so far was nice. No one got hurt, no one trying to lynch him. He could get used to this. "So they're gonna be alright right?" He asked back to Crotus. The big guy gave another nod and looked at the foundry they had just finished with. Crazy people. Going on a strike at a time like this. Personally, Amahl thought they were all moonbrained, giving up their jobs to want more money. Somehow they got it all worked out - with a nice bit of shine to go with it too.

Crotus looked on over the city like it was a challenge. The way his eyes looked at each people asked quietly if they needed a hero, needed a savior. He was just that person. That special someone; someone they could give their gold. For a price, Crotus could fix their little lives. "Lathander is good to us this day." The golden boy whispered. With a slight nudge to Amahl's arm, the sized giant of a man got up and started heading to the temple to Waukeen. The man was tireless. Amahl brushed off his figure again; making sure his coin purse was nice and tight before heading to tag along.

"Two in one day?" The thief knew the answer already. It was a bit of a gripe, though he felt the pull for more. How much more money could they get in one day? How much more stuff could they do? The path to the temple was a bit crowded this time of day. Most people were in line but not the kind they'd get hurt for. Most people were happy with that grind - if they could get it. Nice little rat race going on here.

Crotus spake with such certainty, "We are not done until the people sing of Crotus and Amahl." He grimaced a bit at the choices, and then eventually smiled, "And we are not done until we have drinks named after us." With a pluck of a page Crotus claimed a parchment for their doing. "How do you feel about rats?" Amahl gave a few blinks at the mentioning and gave a shrug.

"They're alright I guess. A bit gamey."

"Not eating. Killing."

"Er... I don't know. They're pretty fast."

Amahl shoved his hands in his pockets after a final wave to the long lines. He couldn't help the slight swell in his chest at the thought of it. Having so much money. Not having to wait like those folks; having tales spread. Rats didn't seem like the way to it, but hey, Crotus wasn't bad on a lead yet. Maybe people would sort of forget all those times he lifted stuff. Nah. He'd probably have to kill a dragon or something. "... be in the basement."

"Huh? What?"

"Oh I see you're on top of things then." Crotus looked over his shoulder. "So when we get there you can do the work and I'll back you up." He said with a bit of venom in his voice. Amahl gave a sheepish shrug and a grin. He tried to glance the blow off with a playful look and continued to follow. "It's in an inn. Keeper's been having some problems. There's a lot of them, and they've been a bit riled up so they're not going to hide." Amahl tried to ponder this information as he followed the golden boy. "So stick them a bit and they should stop moving. They'll eventually get sense to hide like vermin - and then we find where they're coming from."

"You mean with my dagger right?"

"For gods' sake. You ever use that thing? You took the crossbow just because it was worth a lot didn't you?"

"Hey I ha-... err... not really. Naw most times I just gotta flash it a bit and people leave me alone."

"All hail the mighty hunter."

Most of the trip to the tavern involved Amahl defending himself against the jibes of Crotus. It was getting on in the afternoon, and by the time the pair made it to the Grinning Sun it was getting quite popular. The scent of ale rode every patron's breath. The scent of roast pheasant mixed to the dance of a long day's work. A paid minstrel used a guitar to the wants of the occasional calls; all to the mix of a nicer place. Which made it more curious to Amahl that they had a problem with some rats.

With all the swagger Amahl could muster he made his way up to the bar with a confident grin on his face, "So I hear you got a rat problem?" Luckily however, the gifted management of Crotus over Amahl's conversational capabilities kept that sentence from being completed. With a swift tug on the back on the back of his cloak the most of Amahl's sentence went unheard by the patrons of the tavern. Crotus gave him a glare and Amahl gave a garble, balance was restored after a few moments and Crotus picked up the slack.

"I'd like to speak to the proprietor of this place please." After a moment the man behind the bar gave a few blinks and Crotus clarified, "The owner." It took a little more convincing than that, but Amahl was busy trying to fix his hood that had gotten tangled up around his ears. Amahl gave a bit of a shove in response. He barely budged the solid figure, and the subject of the invalid invasion of space simply leveled a stare. Amahl wisely backed off with a nervous twitter.

A half-elf lady came along. She looked like she had done a few thumpings to folks before, and was pretty well set. Amahl fell in love. Something about her hips, her bosom, her face, those eyes, and being clean just made her all the better. The warm buzz of inebriating infatuation buzzed out things before Crotus slapped him on the back, "And my friend here has volunteered first crack at your task." Amahl said something smooth and pointed to his chest and nodding a few times. He surely tripped on his own tongue.

"Alright. They're in the basement. Be careful though. There's a lot of them."

Amahl in his suave manner pointed to himself and gave a thumbs up, trying to schmooze his way on over to the basement. Then having to be turned around by Crotus, he headed behind the bar and eventually found his way down to the cellar. The door was promptly closed behind him as well, Crotus said - "To keep any from getting out." Locked now in a room with more food than he's ever seen in his life, and enough ale to replace the blood in his veins and make Amahl a dwarf - the former thief was conflicted at his new line of work.

However Amahl was not about to upset those baby blue eyes. With effort he cranked back his new crossbow, admiring the workmanship as the fine article of marksmanship was made ready. Laden with a bolt he tried to sneak up - on the large quantity of rats in the cellar. Either Amahl must've been really good at being quiet, or these buggers were simply not afraid of him. They didn't even bother to hide from him, and there were quite a few. For the sake of money, glory, and a smile - Amahl steadied his aim, and pulled the trigger.

Shortly thereafter, Amahl was running around screaming as the rats chased him through the cellar.

The rogue panicked as the swarm decided to teach a lesson of gnashing, biting, teeth. Clothed in rats as they swarmed about him, Amahl tried to head out in a panicked cry. When he found them locked, the human continued dashing about, and tried to catch hold of the rafters to try and get away from the swarm of vermin. Hanging from the wood by three limbs at a time, Amahl continued to brush off the rats still clinging to him - and then he heard the door from above open. "Crotus! Crotus they're everywhere!"

His companion calmly descended the staircase and closed the door above. Amahl was down to hanging onto the rafter with his legs. Oh certainly, the lot of creatures were continuing up his cloak. Every swipe brought more off, ever second brought more upon Amahl. The vermin scrambled up Mount Tooth-and-Claw to get at the morsel of human flesh. Crotus, for his sake, was smiling. The scrambling waves of Amahl must've been quite amusing, as the golden boy took his time to act. The twist of tongue and fingers stood odd against the chaos - then as one, the rats fell off him - half a blink before Amahl himself fell to slumber.

It felt like a black deep sleep. The feeling of falling permeated the slumber. No deep dream or vision flooded his black lids. It was a sleep Amahl was more used to getting knocked into than crept upon. With a light shake Amahl began to rouse from a furry bed. The smell and taste of rat crowded his senses but Amahl was once again in the world of the living. "All hail the mighty hunter." Crotus spoke.

Amahl was lying on a bed of rats. His back hurt. His head hurt. The shaggy mass softened his fall. Apparently the lot of them was crushed beneath his weight. While not Amahl's finest moment, he was too bleary to chalk this one up to a victory. "Shaggy... witch rats." The mumbled twist of words went from Amahl's lips. A steadying hand from Crotus kept him from falling over again, and with a brushing hand his friend knocked aside a few of the beasts still clinging to his clothes. "Wha- happened..."

"Blood rushed to your head. Don't worry, you'll be alright." Surely Crotus wasn't smirking.

After a few words of steadying, the pair looked about the cellar for any of the beasties that escaped. The more they searched, the more it became conclusive that the entirety of the room had chased after Amahl. His act of heroics and stupidity managed to draw the lot of them into one nice Amahl sized clump. It was then onto the next part of the action - to find where the beasties were pouring from. It didn't take too long with the pair of them working together. Hidden against one of the walls was a crack where some of the masonry had begun to fall through. What really gave it away was the very faint sound of water that led Crotus to it.

Beyond the wall's weakened masonry were the sewers of the city. The briefest thought of a break in traveled through Amahl's mind. Through the weak masonry, into the stores of the inn. All the ale and food a person could want. His family would never go hungry again - nor would four other families. The thought nagged him for a bit, but with a bit of a lazy smile, Amahl just thumbed the crevice and looked to Crotus, affirming that this had to be the place.

The heated sores across his form gave a bit of a messy look to Amahl's face. Admittedly the heated rush in his veins already made him feel a bit ill from the scavenging bites but he put on his winning personality to follow Crotus. The golden boy put on his moves. The words were a bit of a blur to Amahl but he knew to smile and nod; playing the more quiet card for the time.

Before too long, Amahl felt the clink of gold in his hand of a job well done. He quieted the thoughts of what he could have stolen. Now he had an even share of more gold. Enough gold to forget things for a while. What more could he ask for? What was Crotus after? With the weight of gold in his hands, Amahl knew how much easier things could be. Though now, looking at Crotus, the man was possessed. Amahl was happy, sated. Crotus always seemed to chase the horizon, like it was his destiny to put a flag on the edge of the map made.

"So do you think I have a chance?" He shoved the thought aside now, and walked along with Crotus.

"A chance?"

"Yeah you know - with the lady."

"Who - Jaela? That half-elf?"

"Yeah."

"Nah, you can do better."

The comment caught Amahl off guard just a bit. The thought of 'doing better' than someone than her was a bit far reaching. The tender touch of Crotus's words twisted around a bit. Maybe Crotus had something against elves? Naaah, that couldn't be it. Amahl just smiled. With a twist and rapid tap of his boots on the cobbled stone, Amahl trotted to keep up where he had lagged behind. "So yeah. What'cha gonna do with yours?" He asked, spinning around. The balance tried to keep so on the busier street, but with a deft moving of weight and toes, Amahl managed to stay facing his friend.

"I believe my relations are my business Amahl. We seriously have to work on your people skills." His partner scoffed and tried to brush it off as a faux pas. "If you mean my money however, I am going to invest it. I would suggest you take another bath before you consider courting or spending your own gain." Amahl skipped a bit at the thought and sniggered at the jibed at his own appearance.

"Invest? Like what, I thought you had in mind some castle of your own."

"A moneylender, Amahl. Look at it. Suzail." The golden boy stopped for a bit as he spoke. Amahl had struck some sort of cord in the man. "The gem of Cormyr." His hands were outstretched, touching the empty skies with one hand, and gesturing towards the sprawling streets with the other. "With enough gold, you can fix the world. Fix this town. Own this town. Become a lord of your own making." He spoke with a firm certainty. Amahl rubbed his ear for wax, turning the thoughts about with a nervous chuckle.

"I think yer reachin' for the stars bro."

"Never make fun of a man's dreams Amahl. That's the sort of thing wars start over."

At first Amahl was smirking in response. However it became quite prudent for him to stop that; Crotus's face was flat and without expression. Amahl tried to brush it off, rolling his shoulders to garner up the winning personality again, "Oh yeah, sure. I mean. I was totally gonna do that whole. Inventing thing. With the shine and all."

"Investing."

"Yeah 's what I said."

"See you tomorrow Amahl."

The rogue stopped short after that dismissal. With a stoop of his head and a lazy smile, Amahl rubbed his nose and shot a thumbs up to the golden boy. The figure slipped away in the distance in a growing time with Amahl carrying out his farewells. All the same, maybe there was something to it. The weight of his coin purse was growing heavier. If Crotus was looking at hills and mountains of gold, there was no way Amahl could hold onto it all - let alone spend it as fast as he got it.

The weight of his steps jingled with his coin purse like a sick music of greed. Before Amahl got all the way home, he found his hand holding that weight of shine tight to keep the coins from clinking. With the strides all the way home he could feel little daggers niching their way into his shoulders. With the slightest shrug he tried to pass it off as paranoia. Time for some real food; maybe some ham. It was getting late however; and regardless of how he felt about the situation, Amahl knew walking down the streets during dark was a good way to start looking for trouble.

With a pause the crinkle of danger worried itself into his neck again. Amahl didn't look over his shoulder or the like. He followed his fears a little further. Somewhere along the line he started counting the chances of being jumped. Where they'd likely act, where they would try it. Where he would likely do it, if he had to. Amahl stopped short of the path just a bit along the darker stretches of the road, and gave a slow breath.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH"

All the way home.


End file.
